Pelagius entered his chambers after overseeing the execution of his older half-brother. It had been unpleasant to watch. Nikolonium had wept and struggled till the end, squirming so much that the heartsman had to run him through several times before getting the heart. Pelagius regretted the way it ended. He had loved his brother, in his way.

His sister was waiting for him there at a small table, with her big, brown eyes, and her delicate teacup. She had not observed the end of their last brother. He told himself that it was because she felt too sorry for Nik, but he suspected a darker reason that he didn't want to face. That maybe she just didn't care enough to take the time out of her day.

"He's dead then?" She asked.

"Yes."

"You lied to him," she said, not recriminating exactly.

"I didn't lie about anything. I just didn't tell him everything. There was no need to upset him at the end", Pelagius lied. That wasn't why he had kept that one secret back. He wanted to lie to himself and speaking it out loud made it real all over again.

"It wasn't necessary. I didn't mind him knowing."

Pel shrugged.

Helastus smiled at him before looking down at her tea. The very thing in question. Pelagius could tell that she knew he was lying. Probably she even knew why.

They sat there in silence. Pelagius noticed that Helastus had Meronion's iron spear tip on the table in front of her, the one she had always carried around with her. They’d recovered it from the body and given it to Ophelion as a memento to remember her sister by, and now it went to Helastus. It was the only thing of Ophelion’s that she’d bothered to keep. He reached out and fingered it, marveling at its lack of rust. Meronion had been right to take it seriously. He wouldn't take his eyes off the Lorgorin for a moment. He'd leave the Circiniads to his sister.

"You're just going to let them go?" Helastus said after a moment. She was referring to Theo's little party.

"There's no need for further bloodshed."

Helastus sipped her tea. "I suppose it's your choice."

She didn't approve, but Pel had to let them go. They were just little children.

"They've taken my cat."

"Hmm, your cat?" Pelagius asked in surprise, and Helastus nodded. "Wasn't that Meronion's cat? It makes sense the girls would want it."

Helastus huffed. He was surprised, and glad, that she cared about a cat.

"It will all be worth it in the end, all of this, all these sacrifices. It's all for the empire. For the people," she said, more firmly.

Helastus was strong, Pelagius knew. She was, perhaps, stronger than him. She never hesitated to do what needed to be done. Even when he wished that she would.

"Yes. We weren't wrong." He nodded.

They would save the empire, from itself if they had to. Not for themselves, but for the sake of all of civilization. Any sacrifices were worth it for that goal, he told himself.

"Only history has the right to judge us," Helastus said.

Theodorian sat in the small boat with the two girls as they were rowed down river towards the ship that would take them to Euphiles. A couple of her most loyal strigulos sat in the boat behind them. Most of the rest had taken from her, due to her dimished status, and been reassigned in the palace. She was finally taking up the position as primus that she'd first brought up to Vicca, what, almost three years ago now? Pelagius had been glad to see her gone. She may have signed the official abdication order, but in the capital, she could still be a problem for him. Such orders could be overturned if enough of the court wanted it, and she would always be a locus for dissatisfaction with his rule if she had stayed. Out in the provinces, isolated from real power, he could forget about her.

But she would not forget about him, or Helastus, and what they had done. She looked down at the two young girls clinging on to her, the only real family she had left in the world: Meronion's poor daughters. Doricassian only five, and Heraclasus a mere two. Just as with her, Pelagius had been glad to get rid of them. They were so young that they would barely be able to remember their mother, but she would tell them whatever they wanted to know, and keep the memories alive. She hugged the darlings closer to her.

Theodorian hated Pelagius and Helastus, but she hated herself too. She'd been a fool, a weakling all her life, and this was what it had gotten her. She'd sat around while other people decided her fate. She should have done more. She should have done…anything.

"Auntie." She looked down to see that Doricassian was awake. She'd thought they were both sleeping from exhaustion. The girl was looking back at the receding capital.

"Will we ever come back home?" She asked.

Theodorian stroked her hair. "One day, when you're big and strong like your mother, we'll come back. It's your home, it's where you belong, and it belongs to you. Don’t forget that."

The little girl nodded. "I won't."